A craftswoman

Vergil was undeniably an attractive man. As a noble demon, he naturally exuded a charisma that made him appear even more handsome than he ought to be. However...

At the moment, his three wives seemed particularly invested in ensuring he looked impeccable for the upcoming noble gathering and had practically dragged him through the streets of Abaddon.

"You know, you really should care a little more about your appearance," Roxanne said, clinging to one of his arms. "You look like a vacationing uncle!" she exclaimed.

"Huh? That doesn't matter," Vergil replied nonchalantly.

He was a laid-back man, especially after gaining a few extra inches in height and some muscle tone. He wasn't particularly concerned with appearances. Currently, he was dressed in a floral-patterned pair of shorts and a white button-up shirt, looking every bit the part of a middle-aged man on holiday.